


The Beginning of a Story

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Suicidal Idealtion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 15:25:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7646557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every story has to start somewhere.  A few small snapshots from the beginning of Zevran's relationship with the Warden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning of a Story

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 1 of Zevran x Warden week

“You can’t honestly trust him!” Alistair exclaims.  

“Well, not exactly.  He did just try to kill us, like, an hour ago,” Sereda points out.  “That’d be a really quick turnaround on trust.”

“Then why are you letting him pitch his tent right next to yours?” Alistair asks.  

“Zevran needs to sleep somewhere,” Sereda says with a shrug.  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could  _ kill _ you in your sleep, because he’s a person who  _ kills other people for money _ ,” Alistair says.  “Specifically, you and me.”

Honestly, Sereda considered that.  And honestly?  That’s part of the reason why she decided to let Zevran join them.  

After everything that happened since the day of her commission, Sereda is exhausted somewhere deep inside.  The task before her is so huge, and Sereda doesn’t  _ care _ .  This surface world isn’t her world.  There’s nothing else that she can do, so she keeps going, but if Zevran were to slit her throat in her sleep, that would be a great relief.  Her older brother is dead, the Grey Wardens are dead, and she doesn’t deserve better.  She has lost everything of value; she doesn’t care about her life.

“If you prefer, either one of you could tie me up!  Or both of you!  I would prefer both of you,” Zevran chimes in from across the fire.  “If you both want to manhandle me a little, I would enjoy that.  You both seem delightfully strong.”

Alistair’s face turns bright red.  “N-no. I don’t think I want to do that.”

“Ah, well.  How about you?” Zevran asks her.  “Want to tie me up for your safety?”

“I don’t think that that’s a good idea.  It’s bad for your circulation, and I suspect that you could untie yourself anyway,” Sereda says dryly.  

Zevran tilts his head.  “It depends on what kind of knots you used, of course.”  

“Of course,” Alistair mumbles.  

“So, unless I used some really intricate knots, tying you up wouldn’t be particularly useful,” Sereda says.  

“But!  It’d be fun,” Zevran says, waggling his eyebrows.  

Sereda laughs.  “Goodnight, Zevran.  See you in the morning.”

“I look forward to seeing your beautiful face,” Zevran says.  

“And  _ I’ve _ got my eye on you,” Alistair says.  

“I hope you enjoy what you see,” Zevran says with an easy grin.  

* * *

Zevran watches the activity at camp surreptitiously.  He doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s watching them, but he needs to know as much about his new companions as possible.  While Leliana may seem harmless at first, any Chantry sister who can use a bow like that most likely has some sort of secret in her past.  Alistair may have been in favor of killing him, but Zevran doubts that Alistair could kill someone in cold blood, so he doesn’t worry about him.  Morrigan, though, she could kill him.  So could Sten.

Most important, of course, is the leader, Sereda.  None of them will kill him unless she gives the order.  She pokes and prods, asking questions and pretending to be interested in him, and Zevran tells pretty stories to keep her amused.  That she hasn’t taken him to her tent yet surprises him, especially once she finds out that his lockpicking skills aren’t quite up to snuff.  

“I take it that you exaggerated  _ slightly _ when it comes to your lockpicking ability,” Sereda says dryly when he tries and fails to open another chest in Redcliffe.  

“Truly, the chests in Antiva cower before my skills,” Zevran jokes.

Sereda snorts.  “Just work on it, okay?  We do need to get into at least some of these things.  We need money for food.  Tents without holes.  Actual dwarven armor, maybe.  Hopefully.  This human stuff is starting to chafe.”

“Of course,” Zevran says.  

He expects that when they return to camp, she’ll administer some sort of punishment.  Or else take him into her tent so she can get some use out of him.  She is very clearly attracted to him, after all.  That wouldn’t be so bad; she is a very beautiful woman.

But she doesn’t.  All she does is give him a quick smile before she retreats to her tent that night.  

* * *

“Here,” Sereda says, handing Zevran a small gold bar a few weeks later.

“What is this?” Zevran asks, frowning as he takes it.  

“Do they not have gold bars in Antiva?” Sereda asks.  

Zevran smiles.  “They do.  I suppose I’m asking: why are you giving it to me?  To carry?”

“It’s a gift, for you,” Sereda says.  “I mean, I know that you said that you might like to hang around after the whole Blight thing is over, but I figured that you should have options.  No matter what you decide, a bar of precious metal will come in handy, I’m sure.”

“Oh,” Zevran says, apparently at a loss for words as he frowns at the bar in his hands.  

“Your lockpicking skills have gotten a lot better, by the way,” Sereda says, mainly because the silence is making her feel incredibly awkward.  She’s also exhausted from the Fade.  Never again.  “I really appreciate that you’ve been working at it.”

She figures that if Zevran was going to assassinate her and Alistair, he would have done it already, so she really has no big reason to distrust him.  It’s still a little disappointing that he didn’t finish the job, but she’s less disappointed with waking up every day.  

“Ah, so like a bonus for a job well done,” Zevran says, as if that’s an almost comforting notion.

Sereda shrugs a little.  “That would imply that you’re getting paid for this.  Maybe I should ask Alistair about that, actually.  I don’t know if Grey Wardens get paid or what.  Regardless, it’s really just a gift.”

“I see.  That’s… hm,” Zevran tuts.  

“What?” Sereda says.  She doesn’t understand why this is such a difficult concept.  “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything.  Just help, if I can.”

“Thank you, Warden,” Zevran says eventually.  

“You’re welcome, Zevran,” Sereda says, relieved that she’s finally gotten through him.

* * *

Zevran has noticed a startling change in himself over the past few weeks.  Truly, it must’ve started sooner, but Zevran didn’t notice it at first.  He finds himself watching Sereda more and more often.  That’s not unusual by itself- Sereda is very beautiful and her ferocity in battle is truly a marvel to behold.  But there’s something… else.  Something strange and foreign.  

He finds himself smiling when she’s smiling, even if he can’t hear the conversation that she’s having.  It makes him feel strange and fluttery inside.  Maybe he’s getting sick or something, what with the cold Ferelden weather and all.  

One night, Sereda is sitting on the other side of the fire, chatting with Alistair about some Grey Warden peculiarity.  It’s a pretty normal night, and Zevran is sharpening his daggers in anticipation of their travels the next day.  

Throwing her head back, she positively roars with laughter in response to something that Alistair has said.  It’s incredible that such a loud, joyous noise can come from such a short woman.  

She glances over him mid laugh and her smile gets wider.  The sight makes his heart beat faster, and he smiles back at her.  

A few minutes later, she bids Alistair goodnight with a pat on the arm before ambling around the fire to sit next to him.  He keeps working, trying to look very casual about it.  

“You’ve been staring all night,” Sereda says softly, looking up at him with a sly grin.  

“You and Alistair are both very attractive people,” Zevran says.  It’s true enough.

“So’re Morrigan and Leliana.  Especially Morrigan, with the whole could and definitely would turn you into a toad vibe she gives off.  It shouldn’t be so attractive, but let’s be honest- it is.  Even Sten has a certain… quality.  And yet, you’re only watching me and Alistair,” Sereda says.  

Zevran raises his eyebrows.  “You find women attractive as well as men?”

“Women are beautiful.  I haven’t denied myself the pleasure of other women’s company just because I’m also a woman,” Sereda says.  She leans a little closer to him.  “You’re not the only ‘open-minded’ one.”

“Ah, I see.   Now I understand why you understood so easily,” Zevran says.  

“Mhm,” Sereda says.  “What I don’t understand is why you’re only watching me and Alistair when there are so many attractive people around.”

Zevran laughs, mostly to alleviate his own sudden nervous feelings.  “Because you are the most beautiful person in camp, of course.  It is hard to look away.”

Sereda smiles, cheeks turning red as she looks away from him.  “I do like the way you say that.”

“Then I will be sure to say it more often,” Zevran says, gently brushing his hand over her arm.  

For all their flirtation, he’s surprised that Sereda hasn’t asked him back to her tent.  She certainly seems interested, but she hasn’t moved beyond interest yet.  It’s not like she’s the sort who needs someone else to make the first move, that much is plain.  

Then a strained look crosses Sereda’s face and she pulls away.  She exhales hard, crossing her arms in front of her body before standing up.  

“I should get to sleep.  Goodnight, Zevran,” Sereda says, with a round softness in her voice that didn’t used to be there.  He likes how his name sounds in her mouth.  

“Goodnight, my dear,” Zevran says.  

Sereda presses her lips together and nods before turning away.  He watches her go with a small smile on his face.  

It’s then he has a flash of understanding.  Either she’s not at all interested in him, which is entirely possible, or else she’s worried about pressuring him because of their relative positions: her the leader of the group and him the one bound to her with a loyalty oath.  

That’s… not something that he had ever expected.  The Crows aren’t quite so concerned with whether or not their operatives want to have sex, if it’s necessary to fulfil a mission or just to keep a guildmaster happy.  

Her strange respect for him is good- he’s been quite enjoying the sympathy she has- but given that he  _ does  _ want to have sex with her, it leaves him in a tricky position.  Not only does he have to seduce her (not generally a problem for him) but he has to do it in a way that makes very clear to her how genuinely eager he is to be with her.  He knows that if she even suspects he feels pressure to ask her to bed, she’ll refuse him out of principle.  

If he thinks about it, though, it’s a good problem to have.  There haven’t been many people in his life that have honestly cared whether or not they were hurting him or making him uncomfortable.  It’s startling, in a way, to realize that she cares about him, and he’s not entirely sure what comes next. 

Generally, what comes next is death and screaming and violence, but he is very determined not to let that happen here.  Even though her caring for him is nothing special for her, given the way she seems to care about all kinds of people that they come across, being cared for certainly is different for him. 


End file.
